


Kerrystone, Ireland

by DixieDale



Series: The U.N.C.L.E. Agent's Cautionary Guide To Travel [6]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 11:26:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18409685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: When a beautiful fey princess decides to satisfy her desire for adventure and a little passionate romance, as well as her curiosity about the human male, Illya and Napoleon, there in pursuit of suspected Thrush confederate Niles McShean, seem likely candidates.  Napoleon in particular.  Well, Napoleon always HAD been considered highly desirable, to most females anyway, and was just as highly susceptible to a lovely lady.  As far as Illya is concerned, his debonair partner's rather sheepish comment, afterwards, of "oops!" just didn't cover it at all.  An entry for the Guide, assuredly, but one that will have to be heavily edited for the Senior Agent's peace of mind!





	Kerrystone, Ireland

Kerrystone, Ireland  
The U.N.C.L.E. Agent's Cautionary Guide To Travel

Ω Supernatural Presence - some knowledge of the fey would be useful  
Ç Use Caution - not everything, nor everyone, is what it seems. Rule of thumb, be polite and keep your hands to yourself. 

Note: rumored, but unproven tip, so use at your own risk - Supposedly, to break a fairy spell, have a partner willing and able to remove a piece of your clothing, turn it inside out, and re-dress you. 

 

Melisande:

She sat in her luscious suite of rooms, lounging in the rose velvet arm chair, sipping the ruby-colored liquid from her etched crystal wineglass. Toying with end of her long braid, staring at the toes of her gold brocade slippers, she sighed heavily. 

She'd thrown open the shutters when she'd returned to her room after the court dinner, leaving the others to drink and laugh and dance into the night. It had all just seemed so MUNDANE, so dreadfully DULL! She'd spent some time sitting on the window seat gazing outside at the evening sky with its beautiful full moon, listening to the night birds, before despondently turning to pick up her book. She only had another two chapters to go before finishing it, and that always made her a little sad, at least until she got started on the next book waiting on the 'not yet read' shelf. 

Thirty minutes later she was once again sighing deeply, this time with a confusing mix of deep contentment and equally deep longing, at the ever so romantic ending. She took stock in how her state differed from the lovely Katherine, heroine of the book she'd just finished, last seen in the loving arms of her lover and future husband, and found herself coming up far too short in her own judgement. 

She would have considered pouting, if she'd thought it would do any good, but since she was alone, that didn't seem likely. In fact, that was the problem, wasn't it? She was alone.

The moon was full, the night was warm, ripe for romance, and she, the loveliest princess in the whole of the fey kingdom (at least according to what she was told by a great many people) was alone and lonely. Somehow that just didn't seem right. 

She ran her eyes lovingly over the bookshelves covering one short wall; books were her passion, had been since she was quite small, and her father had indulged her right from the start. Continued to indulge her, though he sometimes laughed at what she chose to read. 

"Reality, my darling daughter, is quite different from what you find in those novels of yours. There are fey writers as well as human ones, you know. Have you tried any of THOSE? I'm afraid you'll get some very odd ideas from some of those books of yours. Humans are really quite different in a goodly number of ways," Lugh would tell her, shaking his head fondly. 

Still, he indulged her. She'd lost her mother at an uncomfortably young age, and her father doted on her, spoiled her far beyond reason, sought to protect her far beyond what the princess thought was necessary. Citing the words of Elizabeth, the heroine of another of her favorites, a young woman surrounded by loving parents and four strapping older brothers, "there is a point when protecting becomes stifling," knowing that was ever so true in her own case. 

How was she ever to find romance and adventure in such an atmosphere? How was she ever to meet anyone like the men described in those novels, someone handsome and dashing and ready to whisper sweet words in her shell-like ear? Someone eager to kiss her and hold her in his strong, warm arms? Someone willing, and more than willing, to share the sensual delights a night like this should entail? Teach her just HOW different the human male was from the fey males she had had around her for her entire life?

Impulsively jumping to her feet, Melisande D'Arion walked over to her long mirror and mentally compared herself to the heroine of the latest book she'd just finished. 

"Long blond hair - check. Clear, even glowing skin - check. Slender figure - check. Even that slight tilt to the end of her nose, the way her ears had that 'adorable peak' at the top, though I think my peak is quite a bit more pronounced. Why can't something wonderful and exciting happen to ME, like it did to Katherine? Why can't I meet someone like her Charles? Like she did, one moonlit night, on a lonely road while she was fleeing from an oppressive situation?"

But she knew why. She was living in her father's household, surrounded by those dedicated to his (and her) service, and they ALL had it in their minds that that should include shielding her from that 'reality' that her father said was so different from her beloved books. 

"If reality is so different, why won't they let me EXPERIENCE some of that reality?" she moaned to herself, her lovely lips pouting just a little. And when you came right down to it, didn't all that 'shielding' really count as an oppressive situation too?

Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she paused, wondering if that particular expression was the same as the one that made Katherine so 'kissable' to the debonair and sophisticated Charles Mallory in the book. She pursed her lips just a little more until she thought she had it just right.

The night was calling her, she felt, but to where? There was nothing out there, no one waiting for her. No dashing, romantic lover to thrill her to her very depths. Unless . . .

Quickly she dashed to the small viewscope she used to spy out the surrounding countryside, the local village, the small eating and drinking establishment there. It only worked at certain times of the year, unfortunately, just when the barrier was at one of the thinner points, but tonight should be fine - first full moon after the first blue moon of the new year. Oh, she'd looked many a time, out of curiosity, when conditions were right, but none of the locals appealed. Well, they were just simple country men and boys, none with the looks or promise of romance in their eyes that she'd read about with such longing. But maybe, just maybe, it would be different tonight. Perhaps she'd overlooked someone with at least SOME potential.

 

Our Daring Duo:

"This hardly looks like a Thrush stronghold, Napoleon," Illya murmured, as he sipped his dark ale, his blue eyes darting around the slightly smoky room. The conversation had died away when they'd entered, and was only now starting to resume.

"No, I agree, but there's Niles McShean just coming in, so it just might be our information was correct after all."

"Do we even know for sure McShean is working with Thrush?" Illya asked, himself more than a little dubious from anything he'd seen, or rather, NOT seen. The handsome, extremely tall, slender but quite well-built young man seemed more like a candidate for Hollywood and its current obsession with beach and surf movies for the teen set rather than the ranks of Thrush.

"Well, no, but he did meet with George Lascare in Dublin, and we KNOW Lascare is recruiting in Ireland, has been feeling out the local branches of the IRA. With Lascare getting in the way of that knife, though no one knows who was on the other end of that attack, and the last seen contact being McShean, the only way to be sure is to follow McShean's trail and see if he meets up with anyone else we know."

"He seems to know his way around Kerrystone. If no one is greeting him with cries of joyful welcome, at least he isn't getting the cold stares WE got when we came in. And the bar man greeted him by name," Illya pointed out.

"Yes, and the barmaid seems pleased to see him. Of course, she seemed rather pleased to see us, as well. Or me, anyway. I think you rather frightened her. You really didn't have to glare at her that way, you know. It's her job to be friendly."

"Is it YOUR job to be friendly, as well, Napoleon?" came as a rather arch question from the surly blond. To his mind, his partner had been a trifle over-enthusiastic in his once-over of the smiling woman.

"Well, it's the expected thing, and I wouldn't want us to stand out," the handsome man with the engaging smile responded, that smile turning to more of a smirk mid-sentence. "And she is really quite attractive in a simple understated sort of way."

Illya looked at the buxom woman spilling out of her lowcut white blouse, her assets pushed upward by that black laced corselet around her midriff. "Understated is not exactly the word I would use," he retorted.

 

Melisande:

Melisande frowned at the viewscope. Niles! He was back! Well, he wasn't what she was looking for, that was for sure! Talk about overly-protective! As far as the blond haired, blue eyed Niles McShean was concerned, she should be content to be wrapped in cotton wool and tucked up on a shelf somewhere! And wasn't THAT just ever so annoying. If he hadn't been so aloof, if he'd shown any indication that HE might be interested in engaging in some of the romance and adventure she was looking for, she'd perhaps have been willing - - - no, to be honest, she would have been DELIGHTED if the man had looked her way with such intentions! She'd known him all her life, true, but even that familiarity didn't blind her to just how handsome he was, how strong, how engaging his manner of conversation, how brave he must be to have entered the knighthood that served her father. 

Her lips tightened as she saw the familiarity with which Niles was greeted by that slut of a barmaid. "You'd think she could wear a blouse that actually fit! That one she must have outgrown a long time ago or else borrowed from her baby sister." It was interesting to see that expression on the blond stranger's face; obviously he agreed with her assessment of Molly. 

"Umm, the stranger. Ohhh, BOTH of the strangers!" as Napoleon returned to the table bringing the refill on their glasses. Her eyes fastened on Napoleon and widened. Now THERE was a man worth looking at! Oh, the blond was alright, had his appeal, but after looking at the rather gorgeous golden-haired Niles, he just didn't tempt her all that much. Besides, he was wearing what appeared to be a wedding ring, and that rather dimmed his appeal. But the dark one, now HE was Lachlan Fraser to the life, right down to that lock of hair that wanted to drop down onto his forehead. She'd envied Lady Elizabeth her passionate interludes with Lachlan, and had been disappointed when the woman made the 'sensible' decision to marry Devin Brodie instead. While she supposed there was something to be said for stability (and wealth and a title and eternal devotion, all of which Devin had laid at Lady Elizabeth's feet in that moving episode), still, to give up Lachlan and the possibility of wild tempestuous nights of ecstasy, (even though it turned out Lachlan had two other wives already), well, she still wasn't sure the woman had made the right choice. Sometimes she thought the writers of her novels rather lost sight of what was truly important!

When she saw Niles leave, and she knew quite well he was headed to report to her father, for he was ever a creature of habit (and wasn't THAT just so dull!), she watched the other two men, the strangers, get up and follow. Suddenly she saw the possibilities, and she leaped to follow that impulse wherever it might take her. She might never have such an opportunity again!

In a flash she was out of the pink silk robe and into that turquoise dress that she'd been keeping in the back of her wardrobe for so long, just in anticipation. A quick movement or two had the diamond earings in place, and she was slipping through the door and out into the hall. The household would still be in the main assembly room, she knew, and it was easy to make her way outside without being seen. 

Once in the night air, she inhaled deeply. Tonight she was going to live! Experience romance and adventure, perhaps even more! Glancing down at her reflection in the pool outside, she decided a few enhancements were needed, and with no more than a quick thought, she took care of that little matter. She smiled at what she now saw, thinking the dark stranger would surely be unable to resist the vision showing there.

***

Our Daring Duo -

"Napoleon, did it ever occur to you that it is NOT mandatory that you respond to every lure a beautiful female might cast out for you?" His tone was more than a little snappish. He had thought Napoleon was starting to get over that compulsion, and was more than a little disappointed at this reverting to form. Though, perhaps he needed to cut his partner some slack; a fey princess, complete with enchantment, didn't come along every day. To be honest, if she had set her sights on HIM instead of Napoleon, he couldn't say with complete honesty that HE would have been immune. No, he had no intention of admitting that to Napoleon!

"Well, actually, no," Napoleon admitted, still slightly bemused at all that had occurred this night. "Well, it never used to, anyway, though I thought I was pretty much beyond that anymore. Oops!" He didn't mention that it was that stay at Meadowfield that had changed all that; he didn't need to, that sheepish, even apologetic look he gave Illya declared that loud and clear.

The look he got from his partner was particularly telling, a mixture of begrudging appreciation and speculation and lingering annoyance, as was the silence all the way back to the inn.

"Are we adding this one to the Guide?" Illya asked finally.

Napoleon looked at him in horror, thinking of his embarrassment if anyone other than Illya ever found out about this night's events.

"Illya, just what are the chances another UNCLE agent will be in Kerrystone, on the first full moon after the first blue moon of the new year? When the barrier is thin enough for this to be repeated? Just in time to meet a curious fairy princess in a mood for a little romance?"

They looked at each other, reliving the evening's events, then nodded and said in unison, "yes, it goes in the Guide."

Illya gave a slight smile, "just in case. After all, the NEXT ones might not know the old trick of escaping from a fairy spell."

"The next one might not have a partner smart enough to catch on to the fact that the princess has the ability to change her appearance that much, either" Napoleon grumbled, still more than a little shaken by the whole experience. "Not before it was too late anyway. And if I haven't mentioned it, partner, I DO appreciate that you were able to figure it out, though I still don't know how."

Somehow, Illya HAD figured it out, enough to put a crimp in the plans the princess might have had, plans an enchanted Napoleon Solo, under the influence of a beautiful night, a beautiful moon, a beautiful woman, just might have been intrigued enough to go along with, no matter his better judgement. Napoleon been shocked when Illya had grabbed at his jacket, yanked it off, turned it inside out, and threw it back over his shoulders, though perhaps no more than the lovely lady had been.

He would always be deeply thankful for Illya's suspicious nature, as well as the sudden appearance of a highly-annoyed Niles McShean, a very protective young fey knight-in-training, it would seem, along with a very stern father. 

Once that equally stern lecture had been delivered by said parent to the lovely woman in the turquoise dress, his beautiful, glamourous fairy princess had turned into a slightly tearful young girl probably barely in her teens, if that, at least in appearance. Napoleon noted, somewhat abstractly, considering the shock, that it would be awhile before the girl grew into that dress.

He still shuddered at the answer the older man had given him. 

"In answer to your question, sir, I believe the mortal equivalent would be approximately twelve or thirteen. A very dangerous age, I'm sure you will agree."

In response to Illya's questioning nod in McShean's direction, "oh, about seventeen, I would think, in your world. One of our most promising young trainees, if still rather impetuous. Has this passion for hunting down dragons, you know. He reminds me of myself at that age. I rather think he and my daughter will eventually make a match of it, but they both have some maturing to do in the meantime. Her desire for romance and adventure, his for excitement and intrigue, so indicative of the very young, don't you think?" Both partners carefully avoided each other's eyes at that last bit of information.

Illya was now smuggly explaining, "it's called 'glamour' for a reason, Napoleon. A bewitching, enchanting appearance, and in her case, it was very much an enchantment. Obviously her talent is as strong as her curiousity. She was really quite believable. One has to wonder just what was IN those romance novels Lugh said she had been reading. The ones he just prohibited her from reading for the next several years. And it would probably be best if young McShean discontinued his quest for dragons to slay; I doubt Thrush will be all that pleased with his efforts, not when the youngster seems to consider villains like George Lascare as alike enough to a dragon as to make them fair game." Though the ease with which Lascare had been dispatched was rather impressive. 

Illya had no intentions of letting Napoleon know that he HADN'T figured it out, the enchantment, had just been highly annoyed (well, alright, angry) enough at his partner (in so many ways) for deciding to charm the lovely woman who'd shown up out of nowhere, waylaying them on the road as they chased after Niles McShean. They had had a job to do, and he'd had Napoleon's promise not to let stray females interfere anymore, especially after their new-found understanding. Actually, he'd only thought of the inside-out-jacket business as a way to interrupt the flirtation before it went any further, something he could explain later with "it seemed the right thing to do at the time, Napoleon." It had been only luck that the girl's father and that very young man had showed up when they did, letting it all come to light. Even knowing the truth now, he wasn't even sure that old trick he'd read about, turning Napoleon's jacket inside out, would have worked in the long run, and he hadn't had the nerve to ask Lugh for clarification.

Illya snorted, "glamour, her mother's favorite dress, and too many romance novels; her father was right - a very dangerous age. Give her a few more years and I would image she will get even more dangerous, though young McShean will probably be keeping a very close eye on her from now on. He certainly had his eyes centered on her tonight."

"I guess I'm lucky her father was as understanding as he was, though he did seem rather exasperated with me. Wonder what he meant, that I should be as courteous as YOU and wear a wedding band as well. That it might prevent at least a few of the future misunderstandings."

Illya looked slightly amused, since he'd seen the rapid, knowing look the older man had given the two of them. "Perhaps one of his own talents. I've read the fey have various."

Napoleon frowned, puzzled. "Talents? What would any fey talent have to do with me wearing a wedding band?"

Illya let that amused look become a slightly sly smile, "prescience, perhaps? Or perhaps he is just quite observant. Come, Napoleon. It has been a very eventful evening, and I am more than ready for a drink and bed."

Napoleon agreed, but still with the feeling that there was a joke hanging there in mid-air, one that he could feel, but not understand. It was early morning before he glanced at the blond head nestled next to his on the pillow and chuckled. 

"Yes, maybe he was just very observant. But I'm afraid it would cause too much of a stir at Headquarters if I show up with a wedding band. They're all accustomed to yours by now, but me?? It would cause far too many questions."

"True, but I do like the idea," a sleepy-eyed Illya replied.

"Yes, well, so do I. Perhaps one day." He wondered if a discreet engraving inside his signet ring might serve at least part of the same purpose. True, no one else (like a wayward fairy princess) would necessarily understand, but Illya would. Pehaps that might be something to consider. Perhaps it would suffice til the other was more of a possibility.


End file.
